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I was lost in the land of deadlines and demands.

February 27th, 2014, 3pm

It was -14°C with broken clouds. The breeze was light.

I was lost in the land of Chronos. The land that stretches out before you like a prairie road dotted with emails and meetings and appointments. The road is straight and narrow. If you move too quickly you’ll miss an important detail. If you move too slowly the objects ahead will rustle toward you and pile themselves on top of one another. They will gather round your feet and if you sit for a moment of rest they will bury you. They will bury you.

I was longing for the land of Kairos. The land that twists and turns and winds with little copses filled with moss and clear streams that beckon, “Sit awhile. Rest here. Drink in this moment, this sensation, this being, this making.” The land of Kairos is best ambled through. If you move too quickly you’ll miss a fascinating detail. There is no way to move too slowly. The objects ahead will blink their feline eyes and contentedly drift off to sleep, purring in their moments, knowing that with time taken you will stop and stroke their fur.

When you are lost in the land of Chronos you must work hard to become fully aware of the dangers. Chronos is well-populated with beings who believe they are moving quickly but who are actually shambling along from carrot(email) to carrot(meeting) to carrot(appointment) to carrot(deadline). Their bodies hoist leg after leg, foot after foot, eyes downcast at the carrots rustling at their feet. These beings do not look up and see that the plains of Chronos are full of carrots. The plains of Chronos are nothing but carrots and roads. One cannot live on carrots and roads and move gracefully. One cannot live on carrots and roads and be aware.

If you are lost in the land of Chronos try to look at your hands. They say “The eyes are the windows to the soul.” but they forget that the work of the soul is shown in the hands. If you remember for just a moment, while in the land of Chronos, to look at your hands you might have a chance. You might notice the mapping of your life in the lines of your palms. You might notice your age in your knuckles. You might notice the dance your hands make even in the land of Chronos because even in the land of Chronos your hands can move gracefully. Even while your body shambles your hands continue the work and all work is done with a little bit of grace.

If you are lost in the land of Chronos and are looking at your hands raise them above your head. Raise them as high as you can and lift your gaze upwards. The light will be bright and stinging. The opening of your chest may pain you. Do not let this discomfort you. Continue lifting your hands and you will find your feet lift from the road. It is important at this particular moment you do not look down at the carrots gathered round you. Instead, gaze outwards at the fields and roads. See all the carrots. Know that you can never gather them all. Most of the carrots must dry up and turn to dust.

Let the grace of your hands lead you across the fields into the green light of the forest of Kairos. Let your gaze wander. Let your feet and legs find their grace in this wandering. Listen. Here there are sounds and wonders. Feel. Here there are textures. Breathe in your grace. Find the purring wonders that wait for your touch. Take your time. Take it and embrace the grace of it. Take it and wonder.

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